Katyr

Head above Water.

The storm outside seemed to mirror the severity of the emotions that banged against the inside of his heart, screaming to get out.

The wind slamming the windows of his clinic did nothing to interrupt the furious pace of his paintbrush strokes. 

His skin felt warm and he had labored breathing as the colors hit the canvas, he pictured the looks people gave him. The textures of the drying paint forced him to recall the feeling of fists against his skin. 

The sound of dead tree limbs scratching the windows of his clinic drew out the feelings of hearing one he once thought he needed most calling him a "traitor" and "murderer." 

Shouting the elf threw his palette out his window, shattering the glass.

As he crumpled down to the floor a familiar light drifted through his window and as he looked up he cried out "Why?! Of all people, you gave me the power to heal. I'm not even strong enough to lift a blade yet I am still blamed for the actions of one woman!" 

As the moonlight reached his face he said under his breath "Your staunchest champions won't even accept me." 

The moonlight reached the painting and as it lit up the image, Kate turned to face it and sighed, it depicted him, on his knees before a great statue of his goddess.

"How can I help others in this world where such a sentiment is seen as a trick or weakness? How can I help heal this world when half of it wants me dead for simply being." 

The moon had no answers for the doctor, it never did.